Prisoners of Ancient Spells
by River in Egypt
Summary: Hermione is on a mission: the world-renown researcher sets out to find a cure to a mysterious malady, which befell Harry and friends, and to rescue Luna, who has been kidnapped under mysterious circumstances. It brings her to Peru with Malfoy in tow, who is most reluctant to come with her. Will they find what they are looking for or succumb to the Amazon jungle and its inhabitants?
1. Chapter 1

_This was my submission for this year's Dramione Remix over on lifejournal. My remixed couple was Tintin and Captain Haddock. Connaisseurs will know, which adventures I remixed and which characters I used. Let me know what you think or if you need more Information regarding the remixed characters. Enjoy_

 **Prisoners of Ancient Spells**

 **Chapter 1**

The _Yoth-K'nyan-Ryleh_ steamrolled and pounded through the waves, the spray coming up to where Hermione stood at the bow, watching the angry sea.

It was no use, she thought. It was better to go back inside. Turning her back to the grey mass rolling, spreading to the dark horizon, she pulled herself slowly, hand over hand on the inside railing, to the next door. Even with her firm grip on the metal bars, the storm managed to make her slip and roll over the deck. On all fours, waves washing over her and pulling her to the portholes, which would mean her instant death when she hit the open ocean, she somehow crept back to the wall and held on for dear life. Two more metres, which took a felt half an hour and she'd reached the door, wrenched it open with superhuman strength, due to her desperation, and slipped inside. With a relieved sigh, she sunk against the solid metal, which separated her from the elements trying to do her in. If she weren't as rational as she was, she would have actually believed there was a purpose for the raging sea.

Picking herself up off the floor, she shook the water out of her hair and stumbled against the rocking ship to her cabin to change out of her drenched clothes.

Crookshanks lay spread out on her bedspread. He may have changed his outer appearance to a white fox-terrier, to prevent his mistress from leaving him behind on her journey, but the lazy, clever half-kneazle/cat was still in there. He raised his head briefly, as if to acknowledge her entry, and lay back down again, sighing.

"Please, don't get up or give me a helping hand. I insist. I can quite manage by myself. I have only been _almost_ blown overboard," Hermione remarked drily. The dog on her bed whipped his head over to her once more, alarmed by her sarcastic voice, but when he saw her making her way to the bathroom stall her little cabin afforded, swaying back and forth due to the ship's lurching, he blinked, once, and reclined once more with a huff. Lurching ships were not his thing and he'd rather reclined without distraction, thank you very much.

With her usual efficiency, Hermione showered, dried and dressed quickly, then left her cabin with a last glance at her familiar. "What kind of dog are you, Crooks? Man's best friend? You will have to improve your habits if you want to make a believable dog," she chided him. He wagged his tail in a lazy greeting once more but didn't bother with any other reaction. "Right", said Hermione and snorted. Then she chuckled. Cat will be cat – and this one was a little seasick.

Making her way to the galley, she thought a hot tea would do her good. Being on a freighter, not a cruise ship, the galley was the only comfortable room with a lounge and the cook was everyone's best friend. In addition, the galley was always warm not only because of the cooking but also because the cook had a terrarium in the lounge – he jokingly called her his sea snake – and, since the cook was quite good at his metier, the kitchen was usually filled with some delicious food smell. It wasn't uncommon to find a seaman or two taking a break with a hot soup or coffee and enjoying the cook's company. Hermione was not surprised, therefore, to find another seafarer sitting already on the bench next to the buffet, mulling over a drink with a sour face.

"Malfoy," she greeted with a nod in his vague direction. Her relationship with him had been non-existent after the war ended, and only necessity brought them together in the same vicinity now.

"Blood-sucking bugbears, it's Granger," he growled back without looking her way. It wasn't obvious whether he was drunk or bad-tempered, but either way, she didn't take it personally. She only needed Malfoy for a single reason because – believe it or not - he qualified. She didn't need to befriend him. And she was quite glad about that fact because friendliness had become a foreign word to Malfoy ever since the war ended. He'd been hit with the Cursing Curse by Dolohov in a last strike revenge for revealing the last Death Eater hideout in exchange for some prosecution leniency. Thus, Malfoy had gotten off lightly, due to being a minor during the war and his family history and his assistance, but life had still not been easy for him. In the end, it didn't really matter whether he'd gotten into the habit of cursing because life sucked or because he was still under the curse. In any case, she didn't blame him for being drunk most of the time, either. She just hoped he would be sober enough to fulfil his purpose when the time came.

After a friendly exchange with the collegial cook, Hermione settled with her tea on the other side of the table Malfoy sat on. Two resting seamen kindly had gotten up to make room for her. She'd given them a friendly smile, which had been returned by an appreciative nod, and slid into the space on the bench thus vacated. She was used to people's kind treatment. Being in the news every now and then kept her face in the know like a celebrity. They never remembered why her name and face had been published, a clever magical trick she invented, only that it had been her. And thus, everybody knew her and nobody knew exactly why, except for her ancient war heroism. And Hermione was quite okay with that. Having been the brain behind Harry's success in beating Voldemort had given her more status than she asked for, those years ago. Being able to hide her face in between publications nowadays, to be able to focus and investigate what really interested _her ,_ was a blessing.

Taking a sip of her tea, she thought of Harry, who was kept in St. Mungo's under strictest observations, he and the other members of his expedition. With a shudder, Hermione recalled her last visit while across from her Malfoy grunted and stared into his cup.

 _"Every day at the same time, Hermione. Just watch, it's almost eleven …" Padma Patil, one of the healers in charge, took Hermione to the locked ward where Harry and his fellows had their beds. The spells Padma used to open the door were partially unknown to Hermione, which was quite a feat, and there was a watchman in addition, but she was aware that such security was necessary. One by one, after their return from South America, the expedition members had been picked off and cast into a death-like sleep. First Ron, then Bill the curse-breaking specialist, then the twins despite their cleverness, Boxley, the photographer, Susan Bones, the anthropologist, Neville Longbottom, the herbologist, and Marcus Flint the muscle and jungle explorer. Hermione remembered how peeved Ron had been about the fact that a Slytherin had to come along, but according to Harry's reports, Flint had been a real help. They had returned, apparently safe and sound, grace to Flint's skills. Until the curse had started to eliminate them one by one._

 _Harry had been the last and, being the last remaining un-cursed expedition member, and being Harry Potter himself, he had the house chock full of Ministry-ordered bodyguards, plus Hermione herself, but to no avail. When they'd heard the usual "zirr" and "cling" in the middle of the night from Harry's highly-watched and magically protected sleeping room, Hermione had known he'd followed his friends into oblivion. Just a few shards of crystal remained in the middle of the floor and the magical artefacts he had brought back had vanished, as usual. All other casualties had had the same circumstances. They'd gone to bed and didn't wake up again, except for eleven o'clock. And all Peruvian treasures were gone._

 _A clock started ringing. "There, wait, on the last ring when the hour is full …," Padma said._

 _So it was. As soon as the eleventh stroke had rung, all nine patients started to gurgle, hiss and writhe in their beds. Since this wasn't the first time the patients seized, protections had been put in place to assure no further harm came to them, but it was a miserable sight: their eyes wide open in fright, their mouths stretched in silent screams, their bodies fighting whatever horrors their minds played them, and no sound but the gurgling of a drowning person and the hissing of a kettle. Hermione bit hard on the back of her fist, taking in every detail of her cursed friends. She still wasn't sure if she should be happy or aggrieved that she didn't go along with them on their expedition, just because her work had held her up. She had been still in the throes of an important project, and Harry, impatient as he was, hadn't wanted to wait for her. Could she have prevented it if she had gone?_

 _"And there's nothing you can do, Padma?" she asked. It was a sign of her distress that she asked such an obvious question._

 _Padma shook her head. "Nothing, Hermione. We have absolutely no idea what ails them, and we checked every curse, ailment, jinx, hex, potion, Muggle illness or any combination of it under the sun. There's just no getting through to them and it works like clockwork."_

 _"Darn," Hermione pressed out. "If only I'd gone with them …"_

 _"No, no, you would lay there, just like them, Hermione. It's better you didn't go."_

 _Healer and world-renown researcher whirled around to the new voice entering the room. The watchman must have let her in. She could be very convincing if she wanted to be._

 _"What makes you say that, Luna?" Hermione greeted the younger witch wearily. She had learned long ago that Luna's comments contained a grain of truth but were very hard to understand for normal people._

 _"They found what they were looking for, but it shouldn't have been found. They broke something that should not have been broken."_

 _"Yes, that's a very helpful observation," Hermione snapped. She could feel her hair coming to life. Why, oh why did it always have to stand up when she got annoyed? "Could you be more specific? Did they find the spring of magic? Harry said no. He said they only found an abandoned cave with some Peruvian gold treasures. These treasures have been examined and found to be harmless."_

 _"No, they found more. And now it's too late to go back. Once it's broken …. When the sun completes its seasonal turn, the contract will be done. All magic will vanish._ It _will make sure of it."_

 _"WHAT?" Hermione and Padma cried at once. "Vanish? Why vanish?_ _Voldemort only triggered some Dark Magic that needed to be undone. What are you talking about?"_

 _"No, no, the magic will vanish. We will all be Muggles again. Just like aeons ago. Before they came."_

 _Hermione was close to shaking her friend. Her hair standing on end because of her aggravation, she was sure she looked like a troll, and being upset with Luna totally didn't help things. Luna had her uses and she was brilliant when it came to contact of a certain kind, that is, the less scientific and more supernatural kind, therefore, since they lived in the magical world, she was better listened to. Sometimes, however, she simply didn't make any sense to any normal person or witch like Hermione herself._

 _"Luna, please, tell me more. Why will magic vanish? Who are_ they _? What is IT? Are you talking about the expedition? Before they came_ back _from Peru, is that what you mean? What did they find there? What did they DO? Padma, help me out here!"_

 _Luna shrugged. She was used to people yelling at her. "You don't have to believe me, but don't tell me afterwards I didn't warn you._ **I** _can make tea without a hot water spell. But the Freshwater Plimpies and all other magical beings will be no more, including us. And that would be a shame."_

 _With an exasperated "Gaaah", Hermione had turned away, her hair up in a quiff, leaving the further interrogation to the more patient Padma, who, however, also didn't manage to get any more clues from the cryptic Luna._

 _And while the gurgling and hissing_ _sound stopped habitually after twelve minutes, only to give way to the death-like state her friends were in, Hermione had found herself on a new mission. Whatever had befallen her friends, she had to figure out what it was and stop it. With or without Luna's cryptic message. She just had to wait until her hair calmed down._

And then _she_ had vanished. From the appearance of her home, there had been a struggle: containers were thrown over and skin of boomslang, black beetle eyes and gillyweed thrown all over the floor. It seemed Luna had put up a good fight. By the looks of it, she had lost and had been taken. There was no sign of her. But she had left a clue behind; a single word had been magically scratched on her wall: _Yoth_.

This was the very reason Hermione was on this ship, heading for Peru, and why she had Malfoy in tow. Blowing on her already cooling tea, she was pulled back into reality when Malfoy's rough voice barked, "Where's your constant tail, that dog looking like a crup in disguise? Changed familiar, Granger? What happened to your ugly cat?"

Hermione clucked her tongue in annoyance. How typical of Malfoy to start with an insult. "This is my ugly cat. Your eyes deceiving you?"

"Huh," Malfoy grunted but decided not to follow that line of conversation. "Tell me again why you had to drag me along, Granger, will you? Gibbering goblins."

Hermione contemplated his washed-out appearance and his hostile gaze. Not only had the after-the-war time not been good to him, his substance abuse, magical or Muggle, had taken its toll as well. He had always been of the slim kind, but now he looked malnourished and worn-out, in the same way as Muggle drug-addicts. She had no pity for his lot in life, his attitude had made clear early on where he chose to be, but she needed him. The main purpose of Harry's expedition had been to find and return one of Voldemort's artefacts, which he'd used to maintain his immortality. Apparently, the Dark Lord hadn't only dabbled in Horcruxes. He had also experimented with ancient Peruvian rituals, time-release spells, which would renew his life force periodically when cast. One such spell, bound to an ancient Peruvian gold mask, had gone off a few months ago, rippling the magic worldwide, since the recipient of the spell was good and well dead, or so they thought. It had taken them some time to locate the vessel for the spell, and when they had, Harry, being Harry and the designated saviour, had put together the expedition to find and destroy the mask and check whether there were other vessels of its kind. The expedition had gone and come back successfully and all seemed well.

In the process of finding Voldemort's little toys of life prolongation, they had found in his legal estate some notes, in which the words "spring of magic" were most prominent – prominent as in written in capitals and underlined three times in colour, much to Hermione's liking. However, Harry had denied finding anything alike. Besides the vessel, i.e. the gold mask, only other gold artefacts had been in the cave, all of which had been examined for Voldemort's magical marker and found to be non-magical, only ancient – and made of purest gold. Ron had made sure every expedition member received his or her fair share. Finder's keepers. War heroes were rarely denied, especially when they saved the day again.

Hermione hadn't begrudged him his new-found wealth. As long as she could continue working for the Ministry's obscure research branch, doing what she did best and loved above all, she was more than fine with her income plus publication deals. She wouldn't have had time to spend more money than she already had. Something Ron couldn't understand at all.

She sighed. Ron lived his life, she lived hers. They were friends, but never aspired to more after a first trial.

Research. Research was her shtick. And research had brought her here, trying to re-trace the tracks of the expedition - with Malfoy, who still glared at her, waiting for her reply. She sighed again, took another sip and put up a _Muffliato_ and a _Confundo_ to be undisturbed and set about explaining her plan.

"All right, Malfoy, you know about Harry's expedition, right?"

Malfoy snorted. "It was all over the _Daily Prophet_ for weeks, galloping gargoyles. If not every nitwitted reader doesn't know every blasting detail about it, they are stupider than iconoclasts, the aardvarks."

"Err, right." Trying to figure out quickly whether the words in his curses actually meant anything, Hermione decided not to bother and moved on.

She cleared her throat. "You know about Voldemort relying on means for immortality, namely his horcruxes. Your father actually guarded one of them. And Harry's expedition went out to take care of other spells he used to assure the continuation of his life force. The one that screwed up the entire magic all over the world."

Malfoy took a sip of his drink instead of a confirmation. His burning if slightly shaky gaze told her to tell him something new, for crying out loud. Her irritation barely held in check over his being obstinate, she continued with a huff.

"Right. After Voldemort passed …," Malfoy's gaze became like a hot skewer with bad aim, "… err, after Harry defeated him…" scorching gaze all over the place, "oh, for Merlin's sake, after he was dead, we found some notes about a spring of magic." The gaze turned to jiggery scrutiny and Malfoy took another sip. This time, Hermione caught a whiff of the alcohol from his direction, and that tipped the scale for her. She didn't care whether Malfoy saw her hair problem: this was too much.

Fully enraged, her hair standing up in the middle in a quiff, she snatched his bottle to have his full attention. "Malfoy, I wouldn't care if you spent the entire trip to our destination deep in your drinks if you were just some old school mate who happened to be on the same ship. However, as it is, you seem to be too much involved with the spirits to even listen properly, not to mention focus. And when we get to our destination, when we actually find this "spring", whatever it is, I need your pureblood presence to be sober, do you understand me? So, I need you to stop drinking now before it gets completely out of hand. A glass here or there won't hurt, but the whole bottle or more vanishing in one day will have to stop. I need you to be able to stay sober and able to use your brain. I need your help in the end and your brain had better be working fine when that time comes."

If loathing could kill, Hermione would have keeled over (in several places) and taken her last breath (or not at all since his aim was so bad.) Instead, she got another whiff of alcohol when Malfoy took another ostensive sip and blew even more spirits in her direction by clearing his throat with a cough. "I-i-i d-d-don't need to do a-a-anything f-f-for you," he stuttered, the last drink having gotten to his brain. Ever recalcitrant, he didn't seem to want to work with her. Well, she had to appeal to his good conscience.

Putting a soothing hand on his, she said smoothly, "Think of your reputation, Malfoy. And your mother. What would your mother think, knowing you're making the Malfoys look bad by drowning your sorrows in spirits?"

That got a reaction other than petulance. "Mmmy mother?" Malfoy blubbered. "W-w-what's my m-m-mother got-t … m-m-my poor mother." His own thoughts caught up with him in mid-sentence and changed direction. His gaze became unfocused, and it actually seemed to Hermione that some tears appeared. They didn't fall, however. Malfoy would never be caught crying.

"There, there, Malfoy," she said soothingly. "There's an easy solution. You're going to help me and come home victorious. She'll be so proud."

After a minute of sniffing silently, he pushed his cup away from him and tried to focus his swimming eyes on her. Hermione felt she had enough of his attention to put the bottle aside, next to the cup at the far end of the table, and continue with her tale.

"Okay, now, Voldemort assumed, according to his notes, that the spring of magic was something where magic could be replenished, and life force, too. Harry and his expedition were looking for some kind of spring, as in liquid coming in any kind of shape, being caught in any vessel. They searched the location of the cave and surroundings thoroughly, but didn't find anything."

Malfoy was busy making an intense visual reconnection with his bottle, but Hermione assumed he was listening.

"Now, whatever they did while searching, according to Luna …" - here Malfoy snorted, "Loony Lovegood, the anacoluthon" - to which Hermione replied with exasperation. He might be under a curse, but could he let her finish one sentence uncommented? "As I was saying, _Luna,"_ she emphasized her friend's Christian name when continuing in a sharp voice, "remarked, in one of her surprise appearances, that Harry and the expedition broke something. She was subsequently kidnapped and taken away, but not before leaving me a message, scratched on her kitchen wall: Yoth."

If this was anyhow familiar to Malfoy and his pureblood upbringing, he didn't let her know. Having snatched up his empty cup with shaky hands, he took a deep swig, found a last drop and sighed relieved.

"Does this ring a bell, Malfoy?"

He startled. "What was that?"

"Yoth," Hermione persisted. "Is it familiar?"

Malfoy put on the appearance of deep thinking, but the effect was that of a confused alcoholic: he had started to shake his head as soon as he'd heard the word. Whatever the alcohol did to him, his lying skills had not improved. There had to be an advantage in that. So much for his pureblood connection. Hermione clucked her tongue in slight annoyance over the effects of his drunkenness and his lack of recognition, but she had done her homework. She wasn't dependent on his pureblood arse for knowledge.

"Well, then, listen up, and listen well. I don't know what dangers we are going to face, and I don't want to have to repeat the details because you've been sitting on your ears and didn't get it into your alcohol addled brain."

"Spit it out, Granger, you hagging nag, err, nagging hag. Don't talk to me like I'm a bath-tub admiral. I'm not as stupid nor as drunk as you seem to think, Miss War-Heroine-who-likes-to-stay-out-of-the-limelight."

That hit. How did he know? She was absolutely certain that she had done the spell properly every time. Nobody should know. But if she asked him directly, he would deny anything specific. Better to find out inconspicuously at a later time.

So Hermione waved her hand dismissively and snarled at him, feeling her hair twitch, "Whatever you say, Malfoy. Will you listen now or do I have to throw all your bottles overboard?"

If he could have breathed fire, he would have had the same expression. "You wouldn't dare, you Ostrogoth."

"Watch me, you miserable alcoholic." Her hair bristled dangerously again.

Malfoy banged his cup on the table and got up. "All right, that's it. Did you need my help, Granger, was that it? Because right now, I'm not really inclined to do anything for you."

Hermione took a deep breath and smoothed her hands down her tresses. He was right. She did need his help. And she didn't need a troll head. "All right, Malfoy. My apologies. Please, sit down again, and I'll tell you what I know and what we can expect."

For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to walk out. On second thought, he seemed to remember what awaited him at home if he didn't help her. He sat down again with a grunt and took his empty cup to roll it between his hands. His sideways glance at the bottle didn't escape her.

"Later," she besieged him. "Please, listen first, okay?"

Angry grey eyes stared at her. They couldn't quite stand still and reminded Hermione of the raging sea on the other side of the hull, implacable and incessantly moving, an incalculable power. It surprised her a bit when he simply nodded.

Hermione straightened her shoulders to face Malfoy on an even level. It always helped her to be more confident in her explanations if she was able to meet her correspondent eye to eye. "All right, our task will be three-fold. We have to find what's affecting the expedition members to be able to undo it. We have to find Luna and bring her back. And we have to find out what she said Harry and the others broke and see if it poses any threat to us. I assume is has something to do with the curse that's affecting them, so it is quite likely dangerous. Do you understand?"

Malfoy had the appearance of not having heard half of what she said, but he proved her wrong when he asked, "And why exactly do you need me to trudge along?"

A small smile played around Hermione's mouth. "You, Malfoy, are going to be my pureblooded bait. If the sea doesn't sink us, our ship will land at Callao in three days' time. And _they_ will find us because of you. If they haven't already."

Malfoy took the bottle back without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

They did make it to Callao with little delay. The ship had been sturdier than it looked and managed the sky-high waves for another two days before they passed into the Pacific and met calmer seas. In the sunrise, Hermione watched the city lights coming ever closer. _This is it,_ she thought, _let's see if the spring of magic is as powerful as Voldemort assumed._

They were booked into a small but clean hotel near the port, with balconies overlooking a courtyard. There was no pool and no TV, but Hermione didn't mind. They didn't expect to stay long and this was not a vacation. All they needed to do was to get the support of the local police to get Luna back. Second, they needed to get an expedition together to take care of whatever was ailing Harry and his friends. All this shouldn't take more than a few days, Hermione thought. If only Malfoy stopped complaining.

"Muttering manticores, my mattress is so worn out, it's like they pulled it from the trash after a gazillion people slept on it and decided it was done for. And there was a snake in my bathroom. If only I could get my hands on some pisco: that would make things a lot more bearable, quivering quintaped."

"No spirits, Malfoy," Hermione hissed. "Remember your promise."

"Yes, yes," he muttered, adding one of his colourful curses under his breath. "Nincompoop. And why is it so freaking hot here? I'm melting, blistering barnacles." Hermione chose to ignore parts of his comment.

"Because we are close to the equator. Plus, are you a wizard, or what?" she barked quietly, lest she be overheard (or, Merlin forbid, she became aggravated), although there was hardly anybody in sight. Still, as expected, since they left the ship, she felt as if she was constantly being followed. "Hex it to your desires in the dead of the night. Heck, you could sleep under silk if you so required. Just don't forget to turn it back each morning, lest anybody sees. And put a cooling charm over yourself."

Malfoy looked at her as if he'd never seen her before. The alcohol must still be clouding his brain. "Four-coloured flapping Fwoopers, you're right, Granger. Go figure," he mumbled. "I'll do that, then."

"Right," she nodded to him, slightly pacified at his admittance. "Get yourself together, Malfoy. We're going to see the police. Crooksie, you stay here."

Crooks had discovered some snakes in the garden and was more than happy to stay and bark at them.

The police inspector sat in a small cluttered office with the blinds shut to keep the sun out. An immense noise filled the air, coming both from a gigantic fan and from what seemed like an empty terrarium gurgling on top of a filing cabinet. He was a small Peruvian man with a moustache and a constant film of sweat on his forehead. His odour proved to Hermione that there was likely sweat in other places, too, or dead animals somewhere in the office, but she needed this man's help, ergo it was unwise to point that out – or even wrinkle your nose, for that matter. She calmly reached out her hand.

"Inspector, how do you do? So very kind of you to see us immediately."

The inspector wiped his forehead with a checkered kerchief, an open ledger with a letter bearing a prominent familiar engraving in front of him on his desk. "Yes, well, you came with recommendations from the police direction. What can I do for you, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione was pleased that the letter from the Ministry had the required effect. "We are looking for a British colleague, who has been kidnapped, and is likely to have arrived in Callao on one of these days. Are you aware of a British female foreigner having landed in the past few days? Not too tall, blond hair, slightly dazed look?"

The inspector tried to be helpful. Wiping his neck, he said, "Well, now that you mention it, there was one, two days ago. Blond woman, the only one in a group of Peruvians. Came in by ship, just like you. The _'Yaminawa'_. Kidnapped, you said? And who would have kidnapped her and taken her to Peru, of all places?"

Hermione tried her most charming smile despite her exasperation at this most obvious question. "Well, a group of Peruvians, of course." She ignored the inspector's affronted look while she ventured on to milk this helpful policeman. Malfoy stayed deliberately quiet, trying to melt into the background and even staying off his regular cursing. "You will remember that the directive you received mentioned a recent British expedition. The members of this expedition have fallen gravely ill, and we have to find out what befell them. My friend, Luna, who's been kidnapped, had an idea what it could have been, so we agreed to return here. But before we could take off, she was taken away."

The inspector's face had fallen like a shutter at the words 'British expedition'. "The recent British expedition? They would have gone to Aguas Calientes? Why didn't you say so before? Well, as a matter of fact, there was no blond woman. There was a British native, but she went quite willingly with her hosts, there was no sign of her being kidnapped."

"Of course not, you nitwit, she'd been Imperioused, err, drugged," Malfoy snarled from the back. He'd taken up position next to the fan, letting the cool air blow under his shirt and effectively blocking the inspector entirely from its effect on the room, making the poor man sweat even more profusely.

That poor man snapped for air, but Hermione was quicker. With a quick wave of her wand under the table between her and the policeman she obliviated his most recent memory of the insult and sent her sweetest smile at him again. "What my partner wants to say," here she put a silencing charm on Malfoy with a quick backward swish, "is that my friend has likely been threatened to the point of cooperation. Which makes it all the more important that we find and rescue her quickly."

The inspector shut his ledger with finality. "I'm deeply sorry, but I'm not able to help you. There was no such person coming in the last few days. Of course, I will inform you immediately as soon as I become aware of such a person. Which hotel are you staying in?"

"The Commodore on the Estrada des Playas," Hermione admitted hesitantly. It was more than suspicious that the inspector changed his mind so quickly - despite her spell, too - but he _was_ a policeman, and he could find out quickly where they stayed in any case. Better to be non-threatening.

Hermione got up and shook the inspector's unwilling hand heartily. "Thank you, sir, I appreciate your assistance. Come on, Malfoy, let's go."

Malfoy struggled briefly, shooting angry glances her way, but followed her out without hesitance.

When they'd left the building and ventured some way into the touristy part of this town, she lifted the spell on him, only to be showered with his protest. "Why in the world would you shut me up, Granger? Lubberscum, miserable Miser, Monopolizer, Misengamot!"

Hermione almost chuckled. The alliterative and almost-sense-making quality of Malfoy's curses had improved and had a very entertaining effect. However, in sight of Malfoy's righteous anger, she sobered quickly. They were in trouble, indeed.

She said busily, moving quickly through the crowd, "Because you would have showered him in curses, just as you're doing now, and I'd rather like to stay on his good side, that is, be inconspicuous and appear to be cooperative."

"But he was lying to us. He has clearly seen Lovegood, the pithecantropus." Malfoy was beside himself. It seemed as if he still couldn't believe how a simple policeman could lie to a Malfoy. This time, Hermione did smile.

"Yes," she conceded. "But we wouldn't get him to admit this, and by trying to force his hands, we would have made an enemy. Instead, he will leave us alone, happy to be rid of us so easily. We have other people to worry about. For example, the ones he was afraid off."

Malfoy grabbed her arm and pulled her around. "What do you mean? What people?"

Hermione got a quick glance at his worry before she extracted her arm quickly and hissed back at him. "Not here, Malfoy, keep moving. Let's get back to the hotel. Don't worry, I'll tell you, just don't be so obvious."

Muttering under his breath while he kept up with her quick pace ("snake charmer, showrunner, slubberdegullion"), they reached their hotel soon. However, before they reached the elevator, the receptionist stopped them.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, you have visitors. They are waiting in the lounge. Here, let me show you the way," the young man said eagerly, coming around the front desk swiftly. Hermione exchanged a quick, puzzled look with her companion who shrugged, and followed the receptionist through the entrance hall.

When the young man opened the door to show them in, she squeezed by him, expecting Malfoy to settle the tip. He did but not without mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "cheapskate, numbskull, Ministry goat".

Two wizards with robes custom-changed into black suits sat in opposing armchairs, bowlers on their heads, a set of tea and biscuits between them. They had grown moustaches, which looked utterly alike, giving one the expression of looking at twins. "Well, look who's finally arrived," one said to the other.

"One might even say, they have finally arrived," the other replied.

Hermione stood rooted to the spot, an unbelieving smile gracing her lips. Malfoy finally came up to her. "Crabbe. Goyle. What on earth are you doing here, you numbskulls?"

Goyle, being the slightly bigger one, got up and came to them with his hand outstretched. "How do you do, Malfoy? And you, Ms. Granger?"

Flabbergasted, they took his hand and shook, at least until the over Malfoy's curses slightly-offended receptionist had closed the door behind him and disappeared. With the door's shutting noise, Malfoy took his hand violently back, almost upending Crabbe, who had imitated the handshaking of his companion.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourselves, you pickled porlocks?"

To counteract Malfoy's less than welcoming greeting, Hermione stepped in, took their hands and shook them heartily again. "I'm sure they have a very good explanation, Malfoy. After all, they work for the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, being so good at interrogating as they are. Right, Gentlemen?"

Crabbe and Goyle's postures changed from disappointed-slouching to straight-up British pride. Even their bowlers sat dashingly straight. Being lauded by Hermione Granger had that kind of effect. "That's right," Crabbe replied. "We've been sent by the Department to give you a helping hand. After all, a kidnapped British witch being taken to Peru should be investigated. And since we're so good at questioning people …"

Goyle added firmly, "To be precise: we've been interrogated."

"Exactly," Hermione exclaimed before Malfoy could put a damper on their possibly only way to get an official search for Luna going by pointing out the nonsense they were saying. "Now, are you equipped to deal with local police, that is, have you been furnished with the appropriate international permissions etc.?"

Goyle looked a bit sheepish, that is, more than usual if that was at all possible, when he replied, "Err, not really, they just sent us on our way and said we would be filled in by you when we arrived. That's why we came to you right away."

Crabbe added, "To be sure, we came rightly filled."

Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline over Crabbe's gaffe; Hermione was disappointed. Without official papers, Crabbe and Goyle were just as useless as she was in getting local police cooperation. There was only one thing to do: they had to find Luna by picking up the clues from the ship. At least, she knew the name of it. Finding out where she was moored would be an easy thing. She filled her group in. They had to hurry before Luna was too far away from the town. They'd never find her in all of Peru without a hint of direction.

"All right, gentlemen, this is what we are going to do: we will find the _Yaminawa_ and follow the clues from there, see if Luna has been on board and where she might have been taken. Agreed?"

The ship was easily found, Luna not so much. They had to wait for nightfall to be able to go aboard because the ship, not surprisingly, was heavily guarded. Hermione had to swim up from the waterside, leaving Crooksie at the quay with Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy, however, was by her side, and he levitated her aboard. With a Silencing charm on her feet, she sneaked around until she found a cabin that had clearly been inhabited by a woman with long blond hair until recently. Hermione found indications for both in the adjacent bathroom. The final proof was a necklace left behind, made out of butterbeer corks, and an earring with an attachment that had the form of a dirigible plum. What did surprise her a bit was a piece of Ashwinder skin on the table. Had Luna been brewing potions while here? But there was no time to think about this. They had to hurry after her.

When she regrouped with Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle, sitting out on her balcony in the hotel, a warming charm over her like dressing gown, her proof was accepted without question.

"Fair enough," Goyle shouted. "She was there. Now, where do we go from here?"

"Well, that depends on where they have taken her, don't you think?" Hermione asked, slightly exasperated. She was worried about her friend.

"To be precise, where would they have taken her?" Crabbe intoned.

Hermione took a deep breath. She had an idea about that. "Well, what do you know about Harry's recent expedition?" She dissected her plan quickly, only to be stopped by protests.

"In the jungle? Without a guide? We'd get lost."

"To be precise, we are lost."

"And there are snakes, bigger than men. They'll eat us!"

"Shut up, you squawking chizpurfles. Are you men, err, wizards or mice? Having your culottes full because of a few snakes," Malfoy barked at them.

"But they are everywhere. We even saw them at the quay while waiting for Ms. Granger. Right between the containers. I always thought they like the sun, not the clammy and smelly."

Hermione stopped them with raised hands. "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Snakes in a jungle are to be expected, even elsewhere. This is a tropical country, after all. We will be able to protect ourselves, I think. We have our wands, and with four people, we can take turns holding watch. If we are just a little bit on the lookout, we shouldn't have any problems."

She didn't quite believe it herself, but they had to get going. It was no use to sit here and speculate about _potential_ problems. Crooks gave an impatient bark.

Malfoy deliberated. "Snakes, hmmmm. There was also one in the inspector's terrarium, too."

"What?" Hermione startled. "No, it was empty."

Malfoy scrutinized her, then shook his head. "Then, why would the motor have been running? No, it raised its head when you talked about the Peruvians that had kidnapped Lovegood. You didn't see it because you were focused on the inspector."

"Huh," Hermione conceded. Malfoy was good for something, after all.

"More snakes? I'm not going!" Crabbe decided. "I've had enough of snakes for the rest of my life."

"Shut up, Crabbe," Goyle interfered. "This is our job. You will go."

"To be precise, …"

Crooks growled into the darkness on the other side of the railing.

It was going to be a long night.

The train left early the next morning. They had to get out of the city by public transport not to raise suspicions. It was clear to Hermione that her every step was tracked and followed. Whatever she was up against was wide-spread in Peru, either admired or feared by the population, maybe both, and powerful. So, if she and her companions left by train in a northern direction perhaps she could lay off her tail for a day or two. If she made it appear they were going to Huacho to visit ancient Inca ruins, since they were in Peru anyway, instead of West on their way to Aguas Calientes, perhaps they could shake them off for a bit. It felt like a stupid, and perhaps even ineffective, ruse, but it was worth a trial.

They arrived in Huacho by lunch time and made a show of searching for a good lunch place when leaving the train station. Hermione even told Malfoy to ask the stationmaster for his recommendations. Thus equipped, they settled in the Los Pescos restaurant where they ordered and took a scrumptious meal, only to disappear from the washroom through the back door, first the men, and Hermione last after leaving a generous sum for the bill by studying the menu for desserts, ordering it, and leaving the money between the pages.

The restaurant backed onto some woods, which they had scouted out before their lunch, and they met again a few hundred yards into the thicket.

"All right, gentlemen." Hermione took the command. "We have to be quick. Apparating as discussed, to Jauja, the south exit of the city. Stay out of sight, of course. If we miss each other or have to shake of a tail, make a few extra jumps. Then straight on to Pampas, east exit, then Aguas Caliente. We'll meet again at midnight at the entrance of Machu Picchu. Gather some provisions on the way. We will have a long way ahead. I'll see you at midnight. Come on, Crooks, into your sling. Good luck, gentlemen." With a bang, they all disappeared at once and silence took the woods again, except for some rustling in the foliage when an animal slithered by.

There she was! Her blond hair covered under a hat, Luna was still recognizable in her robes as she followed her captors quietly, docilely. Malfoy was right, she must have been Imperioused or whatever else these Peruvians did with the same effect.

Thank Merlin, they were able to Apparate. They would have never caught up with Luna's kidnappers if they had followed the regular track. Now, if only Crabbe and Goyle would arrive, they could rescue her. Just she and Malfoy would be too few against four of them. She didn't know how much magic the kidnappers had, and they were certainly alert. They didn't leave Luna out of sight and kept her always in their midst.

She and Malfoy had arrived in Aguas Caliente as planned and only a few seconds apart, but Crabbe and Goyle had not. Whatever was keeping them, they still had several hours before the night, thus, Hermione and Malfoy had used it to check the arriving train for clues of Luna – and had hit the jackpot.

The mission quickly set about to leave the city with a bunch of llamas, which had been waiting for them when they arrived. So, wherever they were taking Luna, somebody had to track them from the beginning.

"Okay, Malfoy, we'll do it like this: I'll follow them, and you will wait for Crabbe and Goyle at the designated meeting point. We can see together right now in which direction they will roughly go, and then you'll come back and follow me and them once Crabbe and Goyle have arrived. All right?"

Malfoy agreed without much cursing, and together they followed the trek of Luna and her captors until they could be sure that the track was taking a north-western direction. Then Malfoy turned back.

"All right, I'll try to leave signs," Hermione said. "Watch out for marks on trees, rocks and broken branches and such. If all else fails, follow the snakes." She pointed to a muddy brown-green snake, which disappeared in a bush amongst the arid scenery just where the trek had passed minutes ago.

"Good luck, Granger. Bloody hell, be careful."

She smiled. "You, too. And come back with those two nifflers."

He smiled back. "Will do. Suffering sea-serpent."

It was already way past midnight when Crabbe and Goyle came up, dressed in traditional Peruvian clothing, strolling to the main entrance of Macchu Picchu as if they were taking a stroll in the moonlight, looking left and right at the sight.

"Pst, pst, over here," Malfoy whispered urgently from a bush off to the side. "Where have you been all this time? Why are you late? Did anybody follow you?" And he added as an aside, "And why do you look so ridiculous?"

"Follow us?" Crabbe replied in a regular tone of voice in astonishment. "Not at all. You?"

"Luckily, no, cackling kelpies," Malfoy gave back in a scathing tone. "We came here unbothered, but _hours_ earlier. So, where were you?"

"Why, we took a look at the sights." Goyle looked around in wonder while explaining. "We've never been to Peru before. We thought we'd dress appropriately, so we would raise less suspicion. However, the Inca culture is astonishing, you should enjoy it, too."

Malfoy's jaw dropped at least ten centimetres. "You were sightseeing? Are you out of your blistering minds, you anacoluthons?"

Crabbe looked offended. "There's no need for name calling if one takes the leisure to enjoy an ancient culture. In fact, your lack of interest in such should rather be more reason for concern."

Malfoy lost it, never mind that they tried to stay hidden. "And did you remember that we are on a rescue mission? If you had been here _hours_ earlier, like we did, we could have tried to re-capture Lovegood immediately. As it was, Granger and I were outnumbered and we couldn't try without your support. Did you think about that, you shipwreckers, terrapins, turncoats, bashi-bazouks?"

They looked a bit sheepish, but not much. Malfoy felt close to hitting them. Why did they have to be so thick? How did it come that these two nitwits got a job at the Ministry when he, Malfoy, had basically lost everything, the Malfoy name finished after the Voldemort fiasco, his father passed away in his Azkaban cell ages ago, his mother wasting away in the deeply indebted Manor? He was bitter and gruff and he knew it, but at least he still had some parts of his mind working, which was the reason why he had gone with Granger when she'd demanded he come with her – the benefits to his reputation of working with war-heroine Granger in restoring war-hero Potter and consorts were immeasurable. However, how was it possible that these two nitwits never needed to use their brains to succeed in life.

He couldn't help himself: cursing curse or not, he felt like yelling his lungs out. "Two-timing troglodytes! Odd-toed ungulates! Weevils! Vegetarians! Vermicellis! Vultures! Visigoths! Can you think perhaps one step ahead once in your life, you dimwitted doxies, you?"

Crabbe and Goyle had retreated a bit at his outburst and looked on wide-eyed, leaning as far back as they could without falling backward. When Malfoy ran out of steam, they straightened up, righted their chullos and with as much politeness as they could master, Goyle replied, "Right. Now that you got this out of your system, perhaps you would be so kind to let us know where we go from here?"

"To be precise, in which system would we be kind, do you know?"

Malfoy, trying to catch his breath – stupid alcohol, how could a simple outburst get him so worn out – pressed on. "We – follow – their - tracks - of course!"

"Well, then, lead the way, Malfoy."

He took a deep breath – a very deep breath – to gather his strength and some more oxygen, and with a last huff he went off, two morons in ponchos and chullos in tow. How did he end up here, he asked himself. Of all situations.

The jungle became very dense, a path barely visible. They had left the mountains behind after three days of trekking. Luckily, Malfoy had used the time since Granger's departure and the nitwit twins' arrival, as he was going to call them from now on, to buy supplies, two tents, sleeping bags and provisions, to be shrunk and lightened and stored in a bag with an Undetectable Extension Charm.

Granger's signs had been easy to follow and so they'd made good way, even with the two numbskulls. He could live with their stupidity, however, what worried him was the fact how people hid from him wherever they saw him. There weren't many, but it had already started in Aguas Caliente. The shopkeeper in the store where he'd purchased their supplies had almost not accepted any money and thrown him everything out in the street. When he'd demanded what was wrong, he'd been told "No se", whatever that meant. And every person he'd seen on the way had quickly turned around, away from him, and gone the other way. "No se" had been the call, "no se". He'd had it. What was going on?

They came to a crossroad, that is, rather a crosspath, with one going deeper into the jungle, and one going clearly toward the stream, which gurgled not too far away. This jungle was full of streams, there certainly was no lack of water. The footsteps of a larger company had been muddled up by some torrent rain but clearly went right, deeper into the jungle. There were no such marks on the left-hand path, and an arrow-shaped mark on the tree in the middle indicated going right as well. Malfoy stopped, waiting for Twiddle Dee 1 and 2 to catch up. When they'd reached him, carrying the ponchos over the arms and using some large leafs as fans, the shirt collars opened, he turned right to keep following the path.

"Wait a minute, why are we going right?" Goyle demanded.

Malfoy stopped and turned around nonplussed. "Because the marks are indicating going right, see?"

"Ah, but what if it's a trick? See, there are no clear footprints. What if they muddled up the path and then they went in the opposite direction to confuse us?"

Malfoy breathed deeply. And then he did it again. When it didn't improve his feeling of tiredness, he tried talking to them, nonetheless. "That would require that they knew they were being followed by us, which I sincerely doubt. Plus Granger has left a mark, as well. See there? The arrow on the tree points right, too."

"I agree with Goyle, Malfoy. You are always taking the lead as if we couldn't do it ourselves. What if it's a trick? I suggest half of us going one way, and the other half the other way."

Malfoy rubbed his tired face and sighed. He had even lost the joy of cursing. Having to suffer the antics of these two nogtails did this to him. How had he ever done it previously? "Half of us three would be one and a half. What a brilliant idea."

"Great snakes, you're right. What can we do about that?"

Malfoy had it. Again. "You know what? You two go your way and I go my way, and we'll see who finds Granger. Keep your eyes open, there are still snakes everywhere in the bushes. And don't fall into the rivers." With that, he turned and went down the path to his right.

"Don't worry," he heard Crabbe answer behind him. "They are wide open."

"To be precise, they're …" Goyle's shout was interrupted by the double bonk-sound of two heads running into a tree.

Malfoy did not turn back. He just couldn't.

He didn't meet another soul for days, not even when he passed simple settlements of few houses splattered throughout the endless Amazon jungle, and he had to admit that he felt a bit lonely. Keeping jungle animals, snakes and ants, alligators and jaguars and whatnots away when you tried to sleep at night, wasn't as easy as taking turns and chatting with a companion. Therefore, when a Peruvian woman in traditional jujuna and polleras in bright red crossed his path on the third day he was ready to even accept her gruff "No se", just to see that he was not alone in an endless jungle.

He approached her. "Ma'am, have you seen by any chance..?"

The woman lifted her sombrero and familiar brown eyes peeked out from under it. Crooksie gave a bark from behind a tree to the left and came around waving his tail. Malfoy had never been so glad to see Granger in his life.

"Granger, thank Merlin. I thought I'd never see you again. What's been happening, why did you turn back, where are we going now?"

Hermione grinned. "One at a time, Malfoy. Nothing's been happening, I followed their trek forever, Luna is still with them. However, I know where they are going, that's why I turned back to catch you and Crabbe and Goyle. Where are they, by the way?"

Malfoy waved his hand dismissively into the jungle. "Oh, hot on your trail elsewhere, the simple-minded troglodytes. I hope they won't get eaten by snakes, is all I say."

Hermione's brain was working quickly at the news. "Okay, then we will have to resort to brainpower if we don't have the manpower. I hope that will be enough. All right, Malfoy, let's get going. It's still a few days trekking until we get there."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

There were animals everywhere. If it were up to Malfoy, he'd put a fence around the entire Amazon and called it a zoo. They had a few narrow escapes from alligators when crossing rivers - even when Apparating across, the buggers hid right close to the water's edge - and enormous pythons, more snakes, for Slytherin's sake, and monkeys. The next animal he saw was going to roast on a spit, spluttering sycophants. He was sure he could eat it, too.

They didn't dare Apparating too far ahead. Granger said she needed to follow her own trek and the signs and markings of the trek taking Luna, to be able to find the place. What exactly "the place" was going to be, she hadn't explained yet.

Malfoy put down his bag and sat on a log, which he had scanned for any living thing – practice made indeed perfect. Then he sat with a sigh. He was done walking for the day.

"Granger, that's it. I'm not going another step," he called into the greenery in front of him. Crooks bounded back to him with a woof, settling at his feet. Malfoy patted his head and spoke to him. "For a kneazle, you're a pretty good dog, Crooks." Crooks beat the ground with his tail.

He saw the colours of her poncho first, then Granger broke through the green. She scanned the log again, just as he had done, and sat next to him. "All right, maybe you're right. We've made enough progress. Another two days, and we will surely have reached it."

Malfoy stretched his legs and huffed impatiently. " _It_? Where exactly are we going, Granger? You said you knew."

Hermione stretched her legs, too, and leaned back against a tree. "Well, yes and no. I know _something_ has to be there and I know where it should be, approximately. But I don't know exactly what _it_ is, nor who we are dealing with."

"Buggering Boogabaloo, how are we going to deal with it if we don't even know who and what it is?" Malfoy exclaimed.

Hermione hesitated a moment. It wasn't easy to explain. "All right, I'll tell you what I know and what I surmised. And then you can tell me whether you agree, okay?"

Malfoy gave her an abbreviated nod of agreement, too tired to move anymore.

Hermione nodded back. "Right. There are several, seemingly unrelated threads of information. However, all threads run together in Peru, which is the first indication that they are connected. First, Harry's expedition: what did they do, where is that cave, and what could they possibly have disturbed there that warrants to put them out of commission? Who or what cursed them, or whatever is it that happened to them, and how can we undo it? Second, Voldemort and the spring of magic: what is is, where is it, what is its purpose, did Voldemort do anything particularly bad, is it at all related to our magic? This is relevant because Luna said magic will vanish if the above-mentioned disturbance, she said something was broken, isn't stopped. In fact, she said it was too late, but I'll be damned if I won't try to actually stop the process." Having talked herself into aggravation, her hair bristling and lifting slightly in the middle, she took a deep breath to calm herself. Malfoy gave her a slow sideway glance, scrutinized her hair, moved a bit to the side, and turned back to the front. She had to be careful, he was becoming suspicious.

She continued. "Third, Yoth. You know, it's almost common knowledge that the ancient Maya and Aztec had a Snake-God, Quetzalcoatl. Now, this was much further north, their colonisation in Mexico rather than Peru. However, according to my research, there's a myth that the Snake-God and his representation is much older than Mayan culture. The myth declares that the Snake-God and his children lived somewhere in the Amazon, in a city of cave systems called Yoth. And this is where the seemingly unrelated threads really come together: the cave Harry's expedition found is exactly where, according to reports, Yoth is supposed to be. Plus when we think of Voldemort, his later appearance and his fascination with snakes and Luna's message on her kitchen wall, many puzzle pieces are coming together. Are you still with me, Malfoy?"

Malfoy had gone very still, listening and staring out into the jungle where darkness slowly crept up on them. It was time to pitch the tents and make a fire and cook a meal, but Granger's telling was too intriguing.

When she addressed him now, he woke from his trance, and while nodding, indicating that he was still listening, he waved his wand at the same time to prepare their camp for the night. The tents unfolded, and a bunch of branches as firewood came flying out of the underbrush, stacking itself neatly in between the tents.

Only then he spoke. "Is this where Voldemort got part of his powers?"

Hermione nodded. She wasn't surprised that Malfoy didn't mind speaking the name. Given how Malfoy had suffered from the whole sad story, she assumed not much admiration was left. "I believe so. Traditionally, snakes are attributed immense transformational powers, as well as life prolongation. I'm fairly sure Voldemort used those powers in his return. This would also explain his outer appearance. These animal powers come at a price."

Malfoy chuckled. "Yeah, that makes sense. The old snake charmer. Gosh, I wish I could have just stomped his light out with my boot heel."

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder in comfort. "Didn't we all?" Malfoy snorted in reply. "Yeah, I suppose."

After a moment of contemplation, however, he straightened up, shaking her hand off, and inquired, "Okay, what else? What does this have to do with the spring of magic? And purebloods? And the explorers' coma?"

Hermione pressed her lips together and shook her head. "This is what I couldn't find out. I surmised that Voldemort played with snake magic in his attempts to find immortality. Some residuals of his early trials lead to Peru and ancient magic, one of which set off the alarms a few months ago. Further, it is possible that Harry's expedition disturbed some ancient cult magic, but I have no idea what exactly. I have to see when we get there. And how all of this ties back to the spring of magic …" She shrugged. "I hope we'll find out."

When she stayed silent, as if she'd said everything, Malfoy gave her a verbal nudge. "What does this have to do with me being a pureblood?"

Granger smiled. "Ah, yes, I forgot. Well, as much as I hate to admit – in our magical world, being a pureblood is considered to have magic in its purest form, right? Like the noblest grape going into the purest wine. Purest gold unspoilt by any less noble material. I also assumed, given his obsession with purebloodedness, that there is a particular magic at play, blood magic perhaps, a pureblood could help with."

Malfoy snorted again. "Yeah, sure. Doesn't say anything about magical skill or quality, but yeah, I suppose." They didn't have to mention the Weasleys or Neville Longbottom. They both knew what was meant.

Hermione nodded in reply, her thoughts going in the same direction. Neville was her friend, but he certainly wasn't a prime example of highest quality magic. "Yes, and I figured, if we are dealing with something to do with our magic, I'll bring a representative of its nobility as a bait. Or negotiator, whatever will be necessary. I wanted to be prepared for all eventualities "

Malfoy's gaze could have skewered her. "Or sacrifice, is that what you want to say?"

She shrugged. "I don't think we have to go quite that far."

Malfoy chuckled. "Just as you thought nobody would be able to detect your shenanigans with the magical blinders?"

Damn! At first, she had thought he was just poking in the dark, but he had it figured out! How did he know? Denial. Denial is the best first defence. She forced herself to stay calm. "I don't know what you mean, Malfoy."

This time, he laughed aloud. "Yeah, right. Clever as you are, you forgot one thing, Granger: somebody already invented the wheel. Just because you're using a spell that hasn't been used for centuries, doesn't mean that nobody knows about it – and it doesn't mean that you newly invented it. Purebloods may be arrogant and self-serving, but they know their history. And not everything is kept in books in a public library."

He grinned broadly at her deer-in-the headlight expression. "As fate would have it, it was actually a Malfoy who invented this particular spell. And yes, I know it. As such, I'm immune to it. But only maybe a handful of other people. Including everybody who speaks Parseltongue, i.e. Harry Potter. Because parts of that spell are also grounded in snake magic, fancy that."

When terror crept on her face, knowing that her best friend would be able to detect her oh-so-secret-spell she used to keep her solitude – it felt like Harry snooping through her underwear drawer – Malfoy laughed some more. In view of his obvious delight, Hermione became angry.

"And what do you intend to do with that knowledge? Why haven't you come out yet to expose me?"

Malfoy still grinned from ear to ear. "Oh, I figured there would come a time when this knowledge is worth some more than petty revenge. Like right now. I didn't mind taking the ship either. I've never been on an airplane, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of you if it wasn't to my taste, so to say."

Hermione's hair started to zing. _Calm, Hermione, keep calm_ , she implored herself. He really had figured out everything, dang it. "So, what do you want, Malfoy? Is it money? I don't have much of that." She figured some blackmail was in for her. Damn, she'd have to ask Harry for money – if ever he awoke.

The blond man next to her sobered and inspected his fingernails. How she had hated this arrogant fuss when they'd been at Hogwarts. Still did, in fact. "Not so much, Granger, so keep your hat on. And certainly no money. I suppose part of what I want is already under way. I guess I have to thank you for picking me to take along on this trip. Unless we die or end up like Potter and his consorts, I figure this trip will do my reputation some good. The former Death-Eater to the rescue or some such shite." He motioned an imaginary headline with both hands. Hermione frowned at his fantasy.

Malfoy frowned back at what was clearly reluctance from her part. "And perhaps, when we get back, you could help me with my reputation, too. We could go on a date or two – just dinner," he quickly threw in when she scowled deeper at his explanation. "But being seen with the Golden Girl could be good. Especially after we've been on this mission together." He shrugged as if he wasn't quite sure himself whether this was such a good idea.

Hermione contemplated him grimly. How would he guarantee that it would be just those two dinners, given that he knew her secret? She really had to stay on the ground, a side-effect of the spell, she could hardly go up to a skyscraper without becoming dizzy, due to the powers of her spell. She couldn't have taken the plane, even though this would have been much quicker to pursue Luna and her kidnappers. She had stunned people, for the time being, saying she'd needed to stay hot on the kidnappers' heels, perhaps even overtake their ship and rescue Luna before she got to Peru. That had been one thing when she employed her blinding spell at the same time, but Malfoy was too clever and immune. He'd seen through her blinding screen. Well, at least that meant he was back to his old form. In the long term, she had to find a better solution. She'd become too comfortable, doing what she pleased.

But she could take care of that later. The most important thing now was to get Malfoy to Yoth and rescue Luna and find the cure for Harry.

She reached out her hand for him to shake. "Agreed. Two dinner dates when we get back, IF we get back, and have found a) Luna, b) the cure for Harry and colleagues, and c) made it out of here with all limbs attached and our minds sane."

Malfoy took her hand and shook. "Agreed. And now, let's settle for the night. I take the first watch."

They took to their work silently as the night jungle around them awoke. They lit the fire to stave off animal attacks and closed their tents with magic to keep the snakes out. The last word was certainly not spoken, but it was enough for the day. They needed to keep their strength.

Two days later they had really reached what Hermione decided was "the place". Only there was nothing special.

The landscape was pretty, Malfoy thought. There was a waterfall from the ledge of a looming mountain in the middle of the jungle, a small lake (without alligators) where the water collected from the fall, and something that looked almost like a cosy clearing where the jungle receded from the water's edge. He wouldn't have minded taking a bath, but thinking about what they dealt with, he abstained. He just splashed his face a bit and felt at least a little refreshed.

"Do we have to get up the mountain, Granger?"

She had already gone further to the rocks at the bottom of the mountain, exploring who knew what. Now she turned back to him, a deep frown on her face.

"I believe so, Malfoy. According to Harry's report, the cave was about halfway up. He described the lake at the bottom, too, so I surmise we've come from the right direction and don't have to walk all the way around the mountain. However, it's going to be tricky. How good a climber are you?"

He scoffed. "What's wrong with Apparating up the cliff?"

Granger looked sceptical. "Well, we could try, but there are some tricky points where we really cannot see where we land. It wouldn't do us any good to get up there and find that we fall down a crevice. I believe a bit of climbing is the safer way."

Malfoy sighed. Physical exercise had never really been his forte. "All right, then. If we must."

A small comforting smile from Granger didn't make him feel much better. "I'm afraid so."

Fifteen minutes later saw them already halfway up the waterfall. However, it was slow going because the cliff was steep and footholds were few and far between. Good thing they didn't have much baggage, except for Malfoy carrying Crooks in a sling on his back. He'd offered like a cavalier and now he regretted it. Malfoy felt the urgent need to whine.

"Why in the world do we actually have to get up to that cave, cluttering clabberts? I thought Potter had already explored that one. What do we have to do there?"

Farther up, Granger panted when she pulled herself up over a ledge. "We have to take a look what's in there, Malfoy. Whatever they disturbed, it started likely in the cave, don't you think? We have to look for clues."

"Clues, clues," Malfoy nagged. "Why couldn't they have disturbed something in the lake, licking lollipops? It would have been nice to take a bath."

He didn't realize that Granger stopped before he bumped into her. "What, why are you standing there as if you've met a basilisk for tea?"

"What did you just say?" she whispered back, standing stock still.

Malfoy huffed. "I said I would have liked to take a bath in that nice little lake down there, but Potter and his certified diplodocuses spoilt it."

Life came back into Hermione. "That's it! Malfoy, you're a genius. They must have thought the "spring of magic" is that little lake, or the source of this waterfall, and first took a bath, then followed the stream uphill until they hit the cave."

"Oh." Malfoy looked anything but a genius. In fact, he felt rather stupid, not to have seen this. "But is it? I mean, is this really the spring of magic?"

Granger had turned to the stream and was leaning down, catching water between her hands. Crooks kicked and struggled and wanted to be let down. Malfoy did and Crooks jumped to the water for a drink.

"No, of course not," Granger replied deep in thoughts, patting her familiar. "Be careful, Crooks, don't get too close. The stream is rather strong."

She got up and stood, watching the water, and Malfoy thought she should rather take her own advice. "But it's a clever idea to make people believe it is. Almost like a temptation – and then when they _do_ take a bath in the lake …"

And then everything happened very quickly – a greyish-brown snake came out under the rock Granger was standing on, off-setting it. Granger wobbled, and to make matters worse, the snake came up like a rattlesnake and hissed in attack. Malfoy, watching everything in horror like in slow motion, hesitated one second too long, tried to jump to her aid, seeing how she tipped forward and sideways to get out of the snakes reach, but gripped empty air. Crooks jumped and barked at the snake, which receded, but it was too late. One more wobble from the witch, one more tilt and shift and the rock slid, Granger still on top of it, over the edge like a surfboard over the crest – with the only difference that a rock doesn't float, not even close.

With an immense splash, Granger and rock hit the rushing stream and were pulled under, sinking in seconds.

Malfoy stood, baffled for a few second and then he Apparated halfway down, then the whole way down again, Crooks running, falling, barking and whimpering hot on his heels, to the bottom of the waterfall where they had started, to see if he could catch Hermione somewhere if – when! - she came back up. He even went into the water up to his hips to see if he could pull her out when she passed by but realized soon that he couldn't see enough in the rushing water.

Back on dry grounds, he stared for a full fifteen minutes, running back and forth at the water's edge close to the fall, calling, screaming, crying her name, not believing that there was nothing to see but water, water, and more water. Cold, crushing water. No brown hairbush, no flailing arms, no colourful Peruvians wool, nothing.

When Crooks started howling, he finally admitted defeat. Sitting down right at the bottom of the mountain, where their climb had started, he sat and stared some more. He just couldn't believe that they had come so far and now, Granger was gone. The kneazle-dog sat next to him, whining, whimpering, pining for his mistress. Malfoy put an arm around him, his throat tight. He had to swallow a few times before he could say, "Crooks, my friend, what are we going to do? Your mistress is not coming back."

"Woohoohoo," wailed Crooks, and Malfoy felt very close to doing the same. He couldn't suppress a sob. He'd never liked Granger much, her being of Potter's opposing team, but she had proved to be quite good company on their mission in the jungle. He felt pathetic that he sat here, sobbing for a witch he had completely underestimated all his life.

"Woohoohoooo," Crooks howled again, and this time, there was an answer.

"Oo-oo-oo," came from the water. Malfoy jumped to his feet and pulled his wand. Crooks, on the other hand, went beserk: he barked and wagged his tail and had clearly recognized the voice.

"Oo-oo, ee-in-e-all." Malfoy heard the strange cryptic sounds and couldn't believe them. "Granger?" he said, incredulous. Then again, louder, "Granger? Where are you?"

"Ee-in-e-all, -ere, -ere" it came somewhere from the water. "-ai-, -ow-uu-one."

Malfoy was confused. Where was she? What was she saying? How could she still be alive?

Then a rock flew through the fall toward him. And in Malfoy's head, it clicked.

"Wait, you're _behind_ the waterfall? How can you be behind the waterfall? Is there another cave?"

"-es," he heard. - - ow – uu – ine."

Another rock came out from the water, with a line attached to it. It fell short of the water's edge, but Malfoy could see it. He stepped in the lake to get it. "Come on, Crooks, let's go see your mistress," he said excitedly and picked up the white dog to put it in the sling. And then he pulled the line and dived into the water.

The water film was only about 30 centimetres deep, but Malfoy was drenched when he'd crossed it. Luckily, his mood lifted considerably when he saw Granger waiting for him on the other side. Crooks went ballistic and struggled to get out of the sling tied on Malfoy's back.

"Wait, wait, Crooks, I'll get you … stop it, I'll take you down, wait." Malfoy hurried to untie the sling but Crooks already jumped to Granger with his hind legs still in the cloth. He almost fell, instead he dragged Malfoy and the sling behind when he jumped up to greet Hermione with enthusiasm and licked her face with gusto.

She laughed. "Yes, Crooksie, yes, sweetie, I'm alive, yes, I'm so happy to see you, too, yes, you good boy, you're a good boy, …" and so on. It was an image of exuberant joy and Malfoy didn't mind at all. It wasn't fitting that he also jumped and licked Granger's face, but he almost felt like doing it. He kept his countenance, however, and used the time of happy greeting to dry himself and his baggage. Then he started to explore the cave.

It was large and astonishingly dry. Only about ten metres behind the fall were wet. From where he stood, the mountain opened into a cathedral-like dome that went deeper than the Great Hall at Hogwarts, as far as he could see, and its end was lost in the dark. Crooksie and Granger, happy and reacquainted, came up to him where he stood.

"I didn't have time to explore yet. I went under, then came to right behind the fall in the wet sand when I heard Crooksie howl. Lucky you caught on so quickly." Granger clapped his shoulder and smiled broadly. It seemed she hadn't dried herself yet, her clothes still clung to her. With a frown, Malfoy gave her a quick sweep of drying spell before she got too cold. It wouldn't do if she caught cold now. Plus her wet clothes were distracting.

Looking into the dark depth, he wondered aloud. "This is not the cave Potter discovered, right?"

Granger shook her now-dry head. The hair still stood up in all directions. "No, their cave was definitely up the mountain. He never mentioned anything to do with the waterfall, and we talked a lot about their expedition before he, you know." She didn't finish her sentence, just gave a helpless head shake. Malfoy knew exactly how she felt. He felt the same way every time he looked at his suffering mother, wandering the empty halls of the neglected Manor. If only he had the money to send her away for some healing.

"I wonder …" he started, only to stop himself. Could it be this easy?

Granger picked up his thought. "Yeah, me too. This could be it. Let's go."

Malfoy nodded and followed her when she took off, deeper into the darkness. He was glad they'd been thinking along the same lines. If he was to hide an entrance, a natural waterfall would be the next best thing to a Disillusionment. So, they were getting very close.

It was dark but not as dark as it should be. Some natural light source from the rocks gave off some dim light, helping them at least to see where they were going. But after a few hours, through wide caves and alleyways and slim tunnels, barely enough to fit a man through, they hit a solid wall. It was man-made, definitely brick, and solidly made. A dead end.

Malfoy groaned. "That's it, Granger. This is the end. We have to turn back." His feet were sore, he was thirsty from the dry air and from exhaustion and a nice schnapps to soothe his soul wouldn't have gone amiss, either. Outside it must have been night and he felt dead on his feet. Surely, she had to see that.

Granger had relentlessly pushed forward, every time he so much as dared to open his mouth, to suggest they turn around as clearly, there was no one living here and this was clearly leading nowhere.

And now, they'd reached the end. This would show her.

Granger was already busy investigating the wall. Her hands brimming over the surface, she was deep in thought and feeling as to how to continue their way.

"Granger, surely…"

"Ssshhhtt," she interrupted him. "Can you hear it?" Her ear to the wall, and her hands close to her face, she listened intensely. He stood next to her, feeling stupid with his face pressed against an old wall in the middle of a mountain. Then he heard it, too.

There were voices, low and melodious, chants and hisses, but he couldn't make out any words. While he listened, Granger had already continued to feel the wall again, moving her hands this way and that.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Shht," she said again. "There's been magic here. I can open this wall. Look, there's a pattern."

Moving her hands, he saw a path of light where she'd touched certain bricks. Their lightness was blinding in the almost darkness. A few more trials and she had discerned a pattern, which made up a complete path in the darkness. It looked a bit like a geometric snake ...

… and then the wall opened. Not brick by brick, like the wall to Diagon Alley, building itself into an archway, but all at once, melting away, giving room to a cave higher than Hogwarts castle, filled to the brim with people or snakes or both, Malfoy couldn't see that quickly, he just registered the hissing, and his hair stood up in horror.

Quicker than he could see in the dark, wondering if the squirming he perceived was snake brood or too many people in too small a room, he was seized by both arms and lifted through the hole in the wall, exposing him to the entire room. Granger was right next to him, and Crooksie barked like mad at their feet until he, too, was seized. They were carried through the crowd, or lifted above, Malfoy couldn't tell, with an overlaying murmur like a church choral drowning every clear perception and feeling topsy-turvy on top of everything, until they landed with a thud in front of a pulpit, raised from the rock, above the rest of the cave hall.

A human body with a snakehead looked down on them. Benevolence was not the word that came to Malfoy's mind.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Did you manage to get here despite all our efforts to keep you away?" he heard above the hissing din that seemed to fill the entire cave. A quick side-glance to Granger confirmed that she'd either landed on her feet or was already up and ready to fight again. This time, it made Malfoy feel slightly better, to see her so alert.

"Sacrilege!" somebody shouted to Malfoy's left. "Sacrilege! Death to all intruders into the sacred halls of Yoth." He thought he recognized one of the people who'd shouted "No se!" at him when he'd met them on the trip.

All right, they had arrived then. Now, just how to get out again?

"Yes, I believe there's that." Snakehead deliberated only for them to hear. Louder, he said, "Seize them. Throw them into prison until we can show them to the Great Snake. He will decide what to do."

That wasn't quite to Malfoy's liking and he made it known. His wand outstretched, he tried to fend the approaching "beings" off. Were they human? Snakes? A mixture in between? Animagi? He didn't like thinking about it. "Stand back, you anachronisms! Keep your hands, errr, what are your appendages, you slithering pockmarks, anyway, keep off, you imitation snakes. Don't you dare touch me. Dugbogs, Erklings, dizzards, Chimeras."

"Malfoy, Malfoy, calm yourself, you're only making it worse," Granger shouted. She had her wand drawn herself, but it was no use, she clearly saw. There were simply too many. Even if she'd blown away the first few lines of snake-people, there were thousands more to replace them. It took only a few seconds to seize them, good and properly, Malfoys curses notwithstanding.

"Let me go, you savages. Ow! Pithecanthropuses! Zapotecs! Serpentine sea-gherkins. Ectoplasms."

They were thrown unceremoniously into a cell carved from the rock, with only one single torch and a very solid door, which fell shut with some finality that scared Hermione to the bones. Given how long they'd already spent in the near dark, one torch was plenty, Hermione figured. However, so was the door. She dropped on a stone bench and leaned against the wall when her knees turned to pudding.

"Doryphores! Terrorists! Bundimuns! Glumbumbles! Diricawls!"

"Calm yourself, Malfoy, please! When we meet the Great Snake, it won't help to curse at it," Hermione said despondently. How could she'd been so stupid? Of course, there was a snake cult with gazillions of followers. What danger she'd brought herself and Malfoy into. No wonder they'd been everywhere, snakes all over the place, and she felt she was being followed. They had been monitoring her every step, trying to keep her away, to preserve their secrecy – something to which she could well relate. Whatever they were, beings with mixed genes or Animagi of sorts, if their existence became widely known by too many visitors, they would be overrun by spectators. And to preserve their secrecy, apparently, they felt justified to do what they must. Hermione's throat tightened, thinking what this had to mean.

How could they possibly get out of this? "I just hope it's not a Basilisk, this Great Snake, or we'll be doomed," she murmured downcast. Crooks jumped up next to her and whined. She patted his head and scratched behind his ears. "I know, Crooksie, I'm sorry. What's to become of us?"

"I'll tell you what's to become of us, my word," Malfoy growled. "They will hear us out, listen to our reason, hand over Luna, give us the cure for our friends at home, and send us on our way. Or else."

Hermione had to smile. Malfoy's righteous anger did her good. She only wished he was right in his assessment, but she very much doubted it. "Your word in Merlin's ear, Malfoy. I hope you're right."

"Damn straight, I'll be right. You just wait. I've got a thing or two to say to his Snakiness."

The door opened again, and several men poked their heads in, spears in hand. "You come. Great Snake awaits."

"Oh, he does, does he?" Malfoy brawled. "Good. I hope he's got ears unlike other snakes because I've got a lot to say."

Hermione hurried up next to him when he stormed away, the guards in tow. "Please, Malfoy, I implore you. Let me do the talking. We have to stay calm."

"We'll see about that," Malfoy pressed out. His face set, he looked quite peeved.

They were brought in what could only be described as a throne room. A huge throne stood directly on one end, carved directly from the rock but nicely decorated with chiselled images, Inca style. Snakes were quite prominent in the depictions; Hermione could see that from where she stood. The whole room or cave was lit with thousands of torches, giving it a majestic appearance and making it as light as day. Hermione blinked away her watery tears and covered her eyes for a moment to adjust.

On the throne, raised above everything else, sat a giant snake with arms and legs. An anaconda, by the looks of it, Hermione thought, the Amazon being their natural habitat. But was it a man not having completed the transformation to snake or really a snake with limbs? Either way, the thought made her shiver.

Snakehead, who they had previously encountered, stood halfway to the throne, awaiting them. Passing through the crowds, Hermione thought she'd recognized some scaly faces: the receptionist of their hotel, somebody looking almost like the police inspector, a man at a shop close to the hotel they stayed at in Callao. Malfoy thought he'd recognized the shopkeeper from Aguas Caliente.

When they'd reached Snakehead, he turned around and addressed the reptile on the throne.

"Behold the Great Snake," Snakehead intoned. "Divine Ruler, I bring before you the intruders who dared to enter our temple."

I wonder why he speaks in English, Hermione thought. Or is this some kind of telepathy that we simply understand as if it was English? She felt dizzy.

Whatever it was, the Great Snake spoke next. At least, that's what Hermione figured he did. She'd heard those kinds of noises only once before, a mixture of hisses and gurgles, befitting a snake.

Snakehead turned back to them. "The Great Snake, divine ruler of the great temple, wishes to know by which trickery you've come to find and enter our temple."

Hermione stepped forward after exchanging a glance with Malfoy, imploring him again to stay calm. He frowned back and but nodded lightly.

"Oh Divine Snake, Great ruler of the temple, there was no trickery. I fell into the waterfall and was swept under. From there we followed the cave to the wall, which gave way to let us in. We are searching for our friend, and we have reason to believe she is here. We want to bring you no harm, only to bring our friend back home."

Snakehead seemed to translate as he turned back to the throne, stepping forward until he stood right next to his ruler, uttering similar hisses and gurgles as the Great Snake before.

The enormous anaconda with limbs answered likewise, as her spokesperson approached, and Snakehead turned back to them.

"Your friend will be put to death for disclosing secrets of our community. It is our law. She will die by snake poisoning, as is custom. So will you. Our laws decree but one penalty for violating the sacred Temple of the Snake."

Hermione felt sick hearing they had close to no chance to ever leave again, but Malfoy didn't take it lying low. "You cannot kill us, it would be plain murder. We did not intend to violate anything, we have simply been searching for our friend. If you hadn't kidnapped her in the first place, we wouldn't even _be_ here, slithering serpents."

Angry hisses reverberated through the hall at Malfoy's angry voice, Hermione besieged him with her hand on his arm. "Quiet, Malfoy, _please_. Noble Ruler, it is true what my companion says. If she hadn't been brought here, neither would we be. How is it that she disclosed your secrets when she didn't even know she was doing it?"

Snakehead translated and the Great Snake leaned down to confer with his spokes-snakeman. After a short exchange of hisses, Snakehead spoke again.

"We are not willing to disclose our secrets any further. To assure their continued secrecy, you will be put to death immediately. Guards, proceed!" A league of guards, standing watch around their supreme ruler, stepped forward, coming toward Hermione and Malfoy in the middle of the hall. Hissing from thousands of snake followers accompanied their doom. Hermione felt as if her head would split in half at the noise. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and her scalp itching all over.

"Murderers, Brutes, Pithecantropuses, you cannot kill us," Malfoy yelled while moving closer to Hermione, Crooksie, who barked as if his life depended on it, in their midst.

"Oh, but it is not us who will kill you. The snakes will decide whether you live or die." Snakehead said slyly above the din.

With his words, a large round emblem in the floor, depicting a rearing snake, started to open, revealing a pit. The hissing coming from the hole in the floor already indicated what filled it. More hissing, Hermione thought. She really had enough of it, her head pounding. On the other side of the throne, Luna was brought in.

"Luna," Hermione cried without getting a response. Luna seemed to be still in a trance. Led by more guards, she soon joined them, and they stood together at the edge of the pit, surrounded by guards pointing their spears at them. Then, Luna awoke.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed. "What a spectacle, hm? Isn't it nice of the snakes to give us such a welcome? However, your hair is standing up, did you know?"

"Yeah, sure, we're very welcome here. To be precise, ..." Malfoy snarled from the other side. "Wait, what, your hair…?" He took a quick side glance and delight lit up his face.

Hermione couldn't feel any delight. She took her friend's hand. "I'm sorry to say, Luna, but it doesn't seem as if we're welcome here. It was nice to have known you. Malfoy, Luna, Crooksie, I'm sorry I couldn't bring you out again."

"This is not over, Granger. Don't give up yet," Malfoy barked with renewed vigour. "They haven't taken our wands. I'll kill as many snakes down there as possible. Maybe it's enough. No Malfoy has ever been killed by a snake. Not directly. However, there may be one more thing …"

"Hey," he yelled over to Snakehead and his supreme ruler while the guards started moving in, poking them with the spearheads. "Does the name Voldemort tell you anything? He was somewhat snakey, just like you guys. My father was one of his advisors and so was I. Purest pureblood, surely you know what that means? You wouldn't want to kill a fellow follower, wouldn't you?"

Renewed hissing erupted but the guards halted for a moment. "Nice going, Malfoy. Wait 'til they find out that I wasn't exactly a fan of Voldemort," Hermione hissed at him while her vision began to blur. Snakehead and the Great Snake seemed to confer again. Perhaps they did know Voldemort, after all.

"Hey, they stopped, didn't they? A breather is all we needed. Now, think quickly. What was that magic you dabbled in?" Malfoy whispered back.

"Err, what?" Hermione was too dazed by her fear and her headache to think clearly. Plus her hair was starting to cloud her vision.

Malfoy nudged her, but gently. "The spell you did, the blinding spell. What was that about?"

Blinding spell. Oh, yeah, the one Malfoy knew about, the one he figured out. It was … a light clicked on in Hermione's mind.

"Snake magic! Yes! But what can it do here? These are all snakes!"

Malfoy nodded satisfied. "Snake magic, that's right. You can't do anything with that here, but what did it do to you? Why is your hair standing up when you get excited?"

Hermione thought hard. What was he saying? When it took her too long, because Snakehead and The Supreme Ruler seemed to have concluded, nodding their big serpent heads and making gurgling sounds that sounded almost like laughing – oh, great, Voldemort had been a laughing stock, here, and purebloods were useless - he led her further on.

"Why do you have to stay grounded? Why can't you even take a plane? Think, Granger! And let your hair unfold. Your kneazle can do more transformations, right? For example, a goat? Perhaps a three-headed goat?"

"Oh, yeah, Hermione," Luna piped in. "I'm sure they would be quite impressed seeing your magic that stems from your Astarte connection."

Astarte connection! Oh, Merlin, what had she done just trying to preserve her solitude? Was she any better than Voldemort, fiddling with things that should be above mortal command? Her terror over her understanding must have shown on her face. Malfoy nudged her again.

"Worry about the consequences later, Granger. Now use it, you useless Muggle, you squibbery thief, you Mudblood" And again, "MUDBLOOD."

Hoo boy. Nobody called her a Mudblood anymore. She had done magic way above her age and experience. She had gone ways no Muggleborn ever did before. She belonged! Magic was her right!

There was a flash of righteous anger in her heart and a surge of magic in her brain, flowing through her scalp into her hair, raising it, lifting it up, with flashes of magic bristling in the tips. She barely noticed how Malfoy had kneeled down, talking to Crooksie at her left, but she felt the surge of magic going through her familiar when he transformed. In fact, she felt every bit of magic in the hall, her two companions next to her like x-rays against a dark screen, a small dab for every person with snake features in the cave, and bigger dabs where the supreme ruler sat and his Snakehead beside him. She saw it with her eyes, the pure energy of magic. Magic! This was all about magic. She felt her innards fighting against each other like a brood of vipers and light pulsing from her chest, her womb, and her hands when her magic flooded her like a life force, and she only hoped she wouldn't pass out and fall backwards into the snake pit.

A gasp reverberated from the beings around her, and she felt how everyone fell to his knees in one swift move. A low murmur erupted, turning into a low chant. Difficult to discern from the overlaying hissing sounds, she thought it sounded like "Sssshub, Sssshub, Sssshub".

She felt a gentle touch on her left, holding and protecting her swaying body, and reality returned when she heard a bleat. The withdrawal of her magic connection made her knees wobble, and she was glad to find Malfoy holding her shoulders and Luna still holding her hand. The sharp smell of goat under her nose brought her vision back, but it swam with dizziness and her head had surely split. When her legs gave out, she was glad to find a goat standing halfway between her and the ground. She still hit her knee sharply, but Crooksie caught the rest of her and gave another encouraging bleat. The last thing she saw were his green eyes, three pairs of them.

And then she did pass out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When she came to, Hermione found herself on a bed with very colourful linens. They were made from rough wool but very nicely dyed and they smelled of grass, air, and freedom.

A quiet conversation intruded on her brain before she fully opened her eyes. One glimpse at the colour had been enough to find that it was too bright. Apparently, Malfoy and Luna were in the room with her, so they had all survived. So far, so good.

"Well, in any case, it was very clever, Malfoy."

"How did you know?" Hermione heard Malfoy's gruff voice as if he was reclining somewhere.

There was a break and Hermione imagined Luna shrugging. "I see things. I feel things. Things that belong together are colour coded. There are more things between heaven and hell than we can even imagine and some just go together. It requires an open eye and many people don't believe before they see written proof. It makes it difficult to get them to hear you."

After a pause, Malfoy replied quietly, "Yeah, I get that."

A few moments passed before she heard Luna again. "How did _you_ know, Malfoy?"

 _Good question, Luna,_ Hermione thought. _I would like to know that as well._

She heard him chuckle before he answered. "Granger thinks she's so clever "

– which she is, don't get me wrong, " Malfoy added quickly when Luna made a sound of disagreement. Hermione listened with baited breath.

"However, there's magic and there's magic, and some differences you don't understand unless you suck it up with your mother's milk. Unless you breathe it before you can think, right?" Hermione heard a sound of reluctant agreeing.

"Hear me out, Lovegood, you will agree." He chuckled again. "You know, there's the magic we wield, it is inborn to us, passed down from generation to generation and sometimes even to people, Muggles, who have the right genetic set-up. Like Granger, here." Luna grunted agreement.

Malfoy seemed to take this as a signal to continue. "Then there is magic that belongs to nature, magic we wizards and witches can channel if we are so inclined, but which doesn't really belong to us. It can be dangerous because it is much bigger, much stronger than the vessels of our bodies can hold. A part of channelling it is always to cut it down enough for manageability. Voldemort went that way, and he went decidedly too far. He paid a price for it."

Luna stayed quiet, but Hermione assumed she was listening just as intensely. Where was Malfoy going with his elaboration? "And then, there is divine magic, the magic of higher beings, in higher dimensions we cannot even begin to comprehend. It drives you mad to even glimpse parts of it because your mind cannot see so far and so wide. No earthly being should ever be touched by it."

"But Hermione did?" Luna asked. By her tentative tone, Hermione figured she was just as confused.

Malfoy snorted. "Thank heavens, no. She wouldn't have survived that. And neither would we. But she tapped into earth magic. By re-creating her blinding spell, I'm sure you saw that one …" He waited for Luna's reply before disclosing more of Hermione's secrets. It came in form of a light laugh.

"Oh, yes, the one she puts on her every appearance in public media? Poor Hermione, she would be haunted by reporters forever if she didn't do it. Remember what happened in our fourth year with Rita Skeeter? Just like that. Our dear Hermione thrives on appreciation but being publicly acknowledged always comes at a price of also being publicly scrutinized, which she's not willing to pay, and I don't blame her. I don't blame you either, Malfoy, that you try to stay away from the public, but I'm glad that you got off the sauce. It really didn't do you any good."

Hermione risked a glimpse through the eyelids because she really needed to see Malfoy's face. He was reclined, as she had assumed, on a sofa of sorts, his light features almost disappearing in the colourful cloth. Luna sat a little to the side, in a huge armchair cut into the rock. How typical of Luna to poke right where it hurt the most. And you could never be angry with her because she always did it with such a pure heart and no malice.

Malfoy certainly had been hit by Luna's remark. His face showed all emotions, from hurt to embarrassment, anger and grief, and then it changed to something softer, something that took Hermione a moment to recognize: hope. As unlikely as that sounded, she also had to admit that the weeks without alcohol and exercise through the jungle had done him good. What a little bit of fresh and regular eating could do, Hermione thought with satisfaction. Perhaps the dating idea wasn't as impossible as she had originally thought.

"She did that," he admitted gruffly, and Hermione assumed he jerked his chin in her direction because she had closed her eyes quickly again, not to be found out. She couldn't do anything against her blushing when she thought about dating Malfoy, who didn't seem to mind that idea either.

Hermione heard Luna's laugh again. "She's adorable, isn't she? I love Hermione dearly. She's quite shirty with me at times, but then I know that she didn't understand me. She's so caught in her brain, it's difficult for her to understand things emotionally. You would actually be a good companion for her, you get under her skin, Malfoy. It would make things easier for her, to access her emotions, don't you think?"

Malfoy cleared his throat and fortunately stayed quiet. Hermione would have been quite angry had he disclosed their dating agreement. Luna didn't seem to notice because she hummed a tuneless tune until she remembered that Malfoy had been in the middle of explaining something.

"Oh, yes, what was it with her blinding spell? You said I would agree."

Malfoy cleared his throat again. "Right. This spell existed before, but Granger thought she had to invent it again, to customize it to her purposes. By doing so, she used the transformational magic attributed to snakes, but Granger being Granger she went one step above. What's the higher power attributed to snakes?"

Luna took a deep breath. It took something to impress her and Hermione felt a bit disquiet at hearing her friend's reaction. "Rebirth," Luna said without hesitation.

Hermione assumed that Malfoy nodded. "Rebirth. Now, this snake cult here relies on snake magic in form of transformation, I've read that somewhere. They do Animagi style but with some lasting effects. They are no strangers to magic, but their magic is very limited to their purposes and slightly different from ours. They don't practice magic like we do. Granger's magic, therefore, is a step above – it hints not only to rebirth but to fertility. A big step above, especially when it comes to their myth of Yig being their serpent father. Because who's the mother?"

Luna confirmed. "Shub-Niggurath, the mother of thousands, Yig's family, occasionally accompanied by a goat. Believing in their divine Snake father, they were rightfully impressed and afraid to meet the divine mother. Well done, Malfoy."

"Thank you." Hermione heard the pride and satisfaction in his voice and could only concur with Luna. Very well done, indeed, Malfoy.

With a lick on her hand, Crooks let her know that he knew she was awake. She would have to move soon. There was just one more thing she needed to know: were they really safe?

"As soon as Granger wakes up and is stable, we'll go to see the Great Snake and he will send us on our way. He will not dare to touch the Great Mother and her companions," Malfoy declared self-confidently.

"Yes," Luna confirmed, but Hermione heard that there was something else on her mind. Likewise, it was on Hermione's. "But we still have to find out what happened to Harry and Ron and the rest of their expedition and how to continue our magic. I don't know exactly what it is, but I think the snakes can tell us. Before that, we cannot leave, really. It's not enough to save our own hide."

 _There, Luna, you said it_ , Hermione thought.

"What?!" Malfoy cried. "What about our magic?"

Much to his chagrin, this was exactly the time Crooks choose to make it known that his mistress was awake. He barked loudly, pulling all attention to the bed.

Luna was the first at her side. "Hermione!" After taking her hand, she inquired, "How are you feeling?"

"Good, good," Hermione replied, sitting up. "Nothing better than a good sleep to replenish your energy."

Malfoy ambled over, much more hesitant. Meeting a woman right after waking up, he was careful from experience. Perhaps she needed some time to herself first.

But Hermione was ready to go. "And don't bother filling me in. I heard you talking."

Malfoy snorted. "You mean you _over_ heard us talking."

Hermione dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. "Yes, yes, but keep in mind I just woke from a rather deep slumber. You cannot blame a witch for wanting to collect her mental capacities."

He laughed. "Fair enough."

Hermione swung her legs over the bedside. Good thing she was still fully dressed. "How soon can we have an audience with the Great Snake?" she inquired urgently.

There was a knock on the door. Malfoy turned his head to the noise. "I'd say rather soon. It seems our escort has arrived."

This time, the court cave wasn't quite as packed. The Great Snake sat on the throne again, but he bowed at the waist to Hermione when they came in. Hermione replied with an inclination of her head to him. Courteous rules had to be observed, no matter where. Respect got you a long way. He seemed satisfied.

His spokes-snakeman to his left took up the conversation. "We greet you, descendant of the mother of thousands, and thank you for the honour of your visit. Do forgive our previous ignorance of your divine presence, and let us atone for our grave error. How can we help you?"

Hermione exchanged a brief glance with Malfoy, wondering if she should have a spokesperson, too, but decided against it.

"I thank you for your welcome and forgive your ignorance. Now, please forgive ours. My friend here, by accidentally disclosing your secrets, told us of the magical contract. I want to renew it, for the human beings are my children and I want them well-cared for. That is to say, I want them to keep their magic."

Both snakes straightened up, exposing the dangerous beauty of a rearing snake. After a brief exchange of hisses, Snakehead turned to them again and said hesitantly, "Divine mother of thousands, a grave sacrilege has been done that is not easy to undo. Alas, we would not even consider it for anybody less than the mother of thousands, or her supreme descendant, but our laws must be obeyed. We are but the guardians of this magic you speak of, the contract having been done by our ancestors, the Serpent-men, with the ancestors of your children, as you say, creating the spring. It is not in our power to either break or renew it. By the sacrilege of entering the Sacred Cave of the Serpent-men and taking their ancient ritual tools, they severed a connection to the ultimate source, which cannot be restored. There is nothing we can do, I'm afraid."

Hermione thought quickly on her feet and tried to pledge their innocence. "But wait, the expedition committing the sacrilege had only come to undo some grave damage done by Voldemort. It was completely disrupting our magic as we know it. They didn't mean to do any harm to you. They didn't even know you were here. They thought they took things of a civilisation long gone. To us, it's very valuable to study and honour ancient civilisations. Or things violated by Voldemort, so we could undo the damage. Doesn't that count for anything?"

This time, there was no mistaking the snakes' sounds for what they were: laughter. Snakehead gathered his breath quicker than his supreme ruler. "Oh, we had so much fun with this human being. Well," he waved his hands dismissively, which looked oddly comical," almost human being. However, even if he took on serpentine features, he was not one of us. He would never be one of us, self-serving as he was. His magic was different, too. We serve and worship but one, the Great Serpent Father, not some mediocre maniacal wizard. And we receive our magical powers from the father, and only from the father. So, we interrupted the spells he had planted here."

Hermione felt her companions freeze in horror, just as she felt her chest tightening.

"But, but that means that you created the interruptions we experienced?"

Snakehead snickered. "Possible. The most important part was for us that this Riddle wizard did not receive his spells."

Hermione felt sick. The expedition had done irreversible damage due to a joke these snake people had played on Voldemort's tricks. Would his legacy never end? And if magic now disappeared, was everything too late?

But wait, …

"It is a catastrophe for us, but I understand your doing, Supreme Ruler of the Snake. However, the magic is still there, we are still using it. How can that be if the connection has been disrupted months ago?"

Snakehead bowed his head in excuse. "Our apologies to the mother of thousands. Alas, there is still a residual source of the magic, as you call it, and it will last for a little more time. At the time of the fall equinox, which will be in another half a moon turn, even this residual source will be exhausted; unless it can be re-connected, but only a supreme being can do this."

Dang! There was no hope. Hermione couldn't, no, didn't want to believe it.

"Can I see it? Am I allowed to go where the residual magic is stored?"

Snakehead bowed his head. "It is in the sacred cave of the Serpent-men, but it would be my pleasure to lead the mother of thousands to it." He hissed something short to his ruler, apparently asking leave, and the Great Snake bowed his head, bidding them farewell. Hermione replied in kind and followed the Snakehead quickly.

They had to climb thousands and thousands of steps, inside the mountain, going up where Harry and expedition had climbed the mountain on the outside. After what seemed hours and hours, frequent breaks and endless exhaustion, they arrived at a platform, from which they could dimly see some daylight at the end of a long tunnel cave.

Going halfway toward the light, they encountered the ancient Peruvian gold treasures Hermione had seen back in England, each and every one of them. They had been completely inconspicuous when examined back home, but here, in their original place, they hummed as if they were electrically charged. Hermione wondered why Harry hadn't seen or felt it.

"This is it," Snakehead said, pointing to the gold treasures. "We put them back here, where they belonged, but there is only the residual in them. The connection to above is severed."

"Above? Where above?" Malfoy said something after a long time of uncharacteristic silence.

Snakehead smiled. "Well, to the stars, of course. The Serpent-men came from the stars and brought magic with them before they populated Earth and built this home, aeons ago."

"But they still hum," Hermione observed, deep in thought.

"Only as long as magic is left in them," Snakehead confirmed with a brief nod.

"They hum? How do they hum?" Malfoy demanded curtly.

Hermione startled. "You don't feel it? They hum like electricity, like … a purring cat."

Luna had been quiet so far, but at the mention of the hum she said, "I don't feel it either, but I wonder what a cat could do."

There was complete silence in the cave. That is, until with a pop, Crooks turned himself back into his Crookshank-self, which had been Hermione's familiar for so long. Snakehead shrieked uncharacteristically and fled without another word toward the end of the cave where the stairs led down.

"Hm, I take it cats and snakes don't get along so well," Malfoy said with glee.

"I wonder if there's a reason for it. The humming feels familiar and snakes usually don't hum. Crooksie, can you purr like you always do when I rub your tummy?" Crookshanks looked up at his mistress with what could only be called exasperation. Then he lay down on his back, exposing his tummy, and started purring. Hermione obliged, and helped him along by rubbing his tummy.

"Oh, now that looks cosy," Malfoy remarked. Luna nudged him in the side. "But it works, look. They found the right frequency." She indicated the increased glow of the gold.

Hermione saw more. It could be due to her newly developed skills of channelling earth magic, however, she saw how the vibration of Crookshanks' purring reflected on the humming of the gold and expanded upwards in a shaft of energy. Very soon it reached the ceiling of the cave and who knew how much further it could go? She only hoped far enough. Perhaps she could help it along?

Anxiously, she focused her thoughts to the shaft of energy, the same way her magic had previously taken hold of her down in the snake cave She tried to nudge the beam further up, but nothing happened. She kept rubbing Crookshanks' tummy despondently, hoping against hope.

Hermione didn't pay attention to Luna and Malfoy behind her, equally helpless. Luna, however, noticed Hermione's trials and, realizing what would help Hermione's magic along, she whispered to Malfoy next to her, "Go ahead, Malfoy, enrage her." To his puzzled look, she urged again, "Insult her! You know how she reacts."

A lightbulb seemed to go on in Malfoy's brain, and with glee, he did as required. "Well, well, Mudblood, you can't do it, can you? So typical, if you really need them, they fall utterly short, the Mudbloods!" He exclaimed the last word with all the malice he could muster.

The effect was imminent. Hermione's hormones spiked, pulling a magical wave behind them, which connected with the beam of energy, extrapolating it a thousand times. With an enormous _whoosh ,_ the beam broke through the mountain, unseen to the little group in the cave, and went far out into space.

Its answer wasn't far off, another beam shot back down to earth, connecting the ancient rituals tools with its power source. However, unbeknownst to Hermione and her companions, with the power of magic, renewing the spring, came the divine force of obliviation, lest humans know too much.

When Snakehead came back, hours later, to see how they were doing, he found them apathetic, with their eyes wide open, staring into empty space and unresponsive. He conferred with his supreme ruler, and gathered a few guards to help the human beings and their kneazle – there was a courageous snake-man who stuffed Crookshanks into the sling found in Malfoy's bag - back down to ground level. They equipped them with everything necessary to camp in the jungle, including some llamas to carry their baggage, and stuffed the llamas' bags with ancient Inca treasures, to make them believe they were treasure hunting. He then sent them off with a few guides towards Aguas Caliente. Whenever they would awake from their trance, the guides would disappear as snakes in the bushes and the small group would think itself on its return trip home and continue on its way.

Then Snakehead set about to release the unlucky explorers from their Portkey induced spell. They had deserved their punishment, but with the Mother of Thousands vouching for them, and an obliviation spell making them forget everything about the snake cult, well, enough was enough. The fewer complications could be attributed to travels to Peru the better for the snake cult. He bid the Mother of Thousands farewell and closed the secret chamber of worshipping.

And while Crabbe and Goyle made their way up Quetzalcoatl's pyramid in Yucatan, Mexico, muttering, "But there was something about a Snake God," Harry woke up in sweat in his hospital bed. He'd had weird dreams about snakes and gold and jungle and he couldn't explain why he and the rest of his expedition were at St. Mungo's. So could nobody else.

Luna returned earlier than Hermione and Malfoy. She had taken the plane to get home and couldn't wait to tell Ginny about her fabulous vacation in the Peruvian jungle. She couldn't quite explain why she had decided to vacation with Hermione and Malfoy together, however, in particular, as those two were terribly occupied with each other.

Malfoy and Granger, on the other hand, had chartered a big comfortable yacht with the new-found riches from their saddlebags and took their time getting home. The weather was terrific and the yacht was very big, and being in their own respective cabin, servants would make sure they didn't miss a thing on their journey.

However, there was time for a date or two. Dinner – and perhaps a little more. After all, Malfoy had his reputation to save.

"Arrrgh, dithering Dugbogs, Granger, too tight, this is too tight. And get your hair out of my face."

The esteemed reader is free to imagine what is going on.

THE END


End file.
